Last Resort The Deleted Scenes
by jinx1764
Summary: Collection of one shots of 'deleted scenes' from my fic Last Resort- most can stand alone but I recommend reading fic for context- fluffy, serious, sexy, all my characters from J/S and my OC's will be included as my muse strikes me. Rated M just in case.
1. Growing Up

**Last Resort – Deleted Scenes**

**Growing up...**

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_This scene starts after Jareth and Sarah have left the gallery after Jareth has met Carol for the first time. Sarah offered to purchase him a pretzel and now they're enjoying each others' company as they stroll on the sidewalks of New York._

"Sarah, this chewy bread confection is quite enjoyable. I've never eaten a 'pret-zel' before." Jareth commented, enunciating the word pretzel as two separate words causing Sarah to giggle and cover her mouth so she wouldn't spew her own pret-zel. "You find my pleasure amusing?" He asked with a touch of haughtiness.

"No...No, it's not that. It's just the way you said pretzel." She wiped her mouth with a napkin as he glared at her then gulped her soda to wash down the dough. "You want some more mustard?"

"Yes, thank you. I would've never thought a spicy condiment would compliment this so well. Truly a gourmet wonder." Jareth slathered more of the yellow sauce on his salty treat and bit off a chunk that was somehow both manly yet delicate. How he could always be so masculine and still more refined that most women, Sarah would never understand. Any modern, human man with the same mannerism she would immediately write off as gay. But not Jareth; he filled his own category.

"So, Jareth, what did you want to be when you grew up?" She asked trying to sound casual.

"Pardon? I'm afraid I don't quite understand the question." He gave her a blank look mid bite.

"Come on, you know, what career or job did you want to do once you became an adult?" Sarah lightly nudged his arm in jest, positive that he was playing with her reluctant to answer the question. She glanced at his blank look again before returning her eyes to the sidewalk ahead.

"Career? Precious, things don't work that way in the Underground." He stated tersely and attacked his pretzel with vigor.

"They don't? Well, people have jobs don't they?"

"Yes."

"People make things there and there's commerce and such, right?"

"Of course." He answered without answering anything.

"You're so frustrating! Why can't you just answer the question?" She stopped walking forcing him to cease as well and there they stood, an eye of tension as the sea of humanity crested around them.

"Because the questions you ask don't have such simple Mortal answers. Yes, there is commerce but we don't use money, yes, there are jobs but residents of the Underground do not aspire to careers as Mortals do. Sarah, things are similar and yet so very different." Jareth sighed he could tell she wanted to understand. Her eyes expressed such sincerity that he continued.

"Residents of the Underground live because, and occasionally in spite of, the inherent magic of the realm. It is what makes us who we are and what we become. Usually we have little choice in what we will do with our lives once we reach the age of majority."

"And how old is that?" Her eyes brimmed with curiosity regarding Jareth's world.

"One hundred years, Sarah." Jareth reached for one of her napkins which she offered and he wiped his lips free of the spicy mustard.

"Wow, I'd hate to live with my parents for a hundred years!"

"Mmmm...yes...quite." He mumbled noncommittally.

"Well, what about money then?"

"Mainly we use a commerce system similar to your old barter system; however it's based on magical abilities. The more magic ability one possesses then the 'richer' or more 'powerful' one is because of the level of spells one can trade, therefore one tends to accumulate more physical possessions. This is why families form strong legacies and seek out fresh bloodlines to keep the magic strong."

Sarah wrinkled her nose, the disgust obvious in her expression. "Sounds more like an autocratic system than a barter system."

Jareth shrugged, "I suppose you could compare the two. While our government is controlled by an elected Council the members tend to be the same or similar persons of magical ability. There are a few Kingdoms with hereditary titles remaining but if their magic dwindles eventually the Council will rescind the Crown from that line and bestow it upon another more powerful family. My crown is the only one won by right of will."

"Jareth, your world's government is even more screwed up then mine. And mine is screwed up bad." Sarah shook her head and slipped her arm through his as she snuggled to his side.

"Perhaps so, Sarah, but consider this. No one in my world goes hungry or homeless unless by their choice. Those that have the ability to barter do so, or conjure their own material needs, and those that have very little ability work for those who are 'richer' and are always provided for regardless of circumstances."

"Still sounds like a strict autocratic system to me. I bet there's a strong caste system build in as well."

Jareth pursed his lips and lowered his chin to his chest thinking on her opinion. True, it was extremely difficult for one with little ability to rise above their birth, nearly impossible. But it could be done under certain conditions; very strict, specific conditions but the potential existed. He'd never considered that perhaps his Society's method of government might be...burdensome. Sarah certainly seemed to think so but her viewpoint only compared what she knew of his world with her own. A very unfair comparison but a subject he would need to think further on in the future.

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**Just a little something that's been rattling around in my head for the last few weeks.**


	2. Broken Song

**Broken Song**

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Never ending pain, agony, excruciating hollowness echoed where his heart once existed. He'd never known such a thing could feel so real, so physical, so debilitating. Certain he should go mad with the emptiness spreading through his soul; Jareth howled from his curled position on the floor of his private chambers. Landing in the center of the large room he'd transformed from his owl form and collapsed immediately upon returning from that _girl's _victory party, allowing the building pain to finally overtake him.

The pain which had been growing since her refusal in the Esher room, since she' denied his Heart Song from the Dream Ballroom. Gods Below, he'd Sung to her! This anguish of an unrequited Heart Song ate through him body, mind, and soul as he rocked himself on the unforgiving stone floor. What possessed him to believe this Mortal girl the one to balance his heart? What reason besides passionate insanity could he give?

Jareth still wore his tattered white clothes from his final confrontation with Sarah and over his huddled form draped his frayed feather cloak; his tousled, spiky, blond hair peeking from one end while his gray boots, now dirty, stuck out from the other. A deep moan rumbled from his chest and he clenched his teeth against the searing pain.

Is this how _she_ felt so many centuries ago? Is this what he perpetrated against the woman he thought he once loved in his youthful arrogance? After almost five hundred years he truly understood the pain he'd caused and Fate saw fit to return the favor with insult as he fell in love with a Mortal girl whose cruelty surpassed his own. Jareth feared he would never be whole again. Broken by Sarah, he was now doomed to love her forever.

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**Just a tiny peek into Jareth's past...*giggle***


	3. Sal's Conscience

**Sal's Conscience **

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._Occurs the same day after Sal transported Sarah to the hospital against her will for the Involuntary Mental Health Certificate issued for her by Dr. Garcia.  
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His shift over, Sal grabbed his work bag and slung it over his shoulder. Normally he changed from his paramedic uniform into his civees that he carried in his bag, but not this evening. Today his routine changed because he had an errand to run, which would be easier if he remained in uniform.

"Hey, Sal, heading out quick tonight, huh?" A co-worker said to him as he rushed through the common room.

"Yeah, I've got places to be." He responded giving Gilbert a rapid glance without stopping. He didn't wait to risk being delayed or sidetracked from his decision.

"That woman of yours makes you jump!" Gilbert ribbed him leaning his office chair backwards to maintain Sal in sight.

"Sure, sure, Gil, whatever!" Sal yelled back over his shoulder, not caring what his co-worker thought just as long as he got out of the station house in time. Sal exited the main doors which lead to the open garage bay and continued out to the street, thankful that no one else happened to be in his path. If he hurried he could catch the next bus heading towards Presbyterian Hospital.

Sal jogged the three blocks to the nearest bus stop arriving in time to see a bus pulling up to the curb. He climbed on board, paid the fee, and found a free seat. The ride to the hospital wouldn't take more than twenty minutes, and then he could hopefully get some answers to his earlier questions about Sarah Williams.

Just over twenty minutes and Sal exited the bus and walked another two blocks to the emergency department entrance. Hence, the usefulness of his uniform because normally a civilian would be required to enter through the main entrance but in uniform with his official ID he could bypass those hurdles and buzz straight to the necessary department. The security staff even waved as he passed them

"Hey, man, thought you were off for the night." A guard asked.

"I am but just checking up on a patient." He answered and waved casually.

"Ok...well, hope it's all good."

"Yeah, me, too." Sal continued on deeper into the department and approached the main nurses' desk. Setting his work bag on the floor, he got a nurse's attention; a night shift nurse he didn't recognize.

"Can I help you?" The male nurse asked sounding a bit frustrated, "Where's your patient?"

Sal shook his head, "No patient, just me. I brought in a patient several hours ago and wanted to see how she's doing." He requested politely. Sal rested his open hands palm down on the countertop, subconsciously showing that he was harmless.

"Oh...okay, what's the patient's name?" He moved towards the computer preparing to search the patient's disposition.

"Sarah Williams."

The nurse's salt and pepper haired head shot up from the computer screen at the name and his eyes widened. He didn't speak for several seconds; Sal watched the man's face turn several different shades of reddish purple before he squeaked out.

"She was your patient?"

"Yeah...she's okay isn't she?" Concern laced Sal's voice at the nurse's reaction. What the hell happened since he'd transferred her care?

"_She's _fine, I think, but one of our nurses got admitted because of her." He said his voice full of accusation.

"Holy shit. Did she attack the nurse?" Sal leaned over the countertop, his hands still resting of the flat surface.

"We're—we're not sure." The nurse answered reluctantly and ducked his face from Sal's intense stare.

"How can you not be sure?" Sal said somewhat sarcastically. "Either she did or she didn't"

"Well, the patient was restrained but we heard screaming and once we got in the room we found Beck on the floor, unconscious and Williams was freaking out in her bed. Meanwhile, all the electrical equipment was exploding and on fire and somehow she'd gotten all the restraints partially unbuckled. So you tell me. In my opinion that insane patient did something to Beck." The nurse explained in a vicious tone.

"Oh man...," Sal whispered, "this is bad."

"No shit this is bad. Beck finally woke up about an hour ago but who knows if she's okay. I'm just glad Williams isn't our problem anymore." He said shoving files around on the desk, looking very relieved.

"She's not? She's already been transferred to the psych ward?"

"Yep, and lucky her she's under the care of Dr. Garcia." The nurse grinned as if he'd personally made the arrangements, plopping a final file on the desk.

"Oh shit...not Garcia." Sal's shoulders slumped and he rested his elbows on the desk, his head hanging low.

"Oh yeah, she's got the grand prize. I'm sure he'll give her everything she deserves."

"You're an asshole. I hope Beck's okay, though." Sal stood up and stepped away from the desk.

"Dude, whatever, you weren't here. Next time you find a psych patient like her don't bother bringing them here."

"If you're on shift, I'll make sure to bring them all here." Sal leaned down, picked up his bag, and walked from the desk without waiting for a response. Although he did hear a disgusted sound behind him as he exited the emergency department.

Just perfect, she'd already been transferred and now he had no access to Sarah Williams. Sal trudged from the hospital, returning slowly to the bus stop. His thoughts endlessly circling around what he seen of this unusual patient, what he'd done to her and now what he could longer do for her. He felt like a total shitbag. He'd restrained plenty of mental health patients over his long career but something about Sarah Williams differed and his gut told him that even though it was his professional duty; Sal Silvari had made a very bad decision.

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**I liked Sal right off and even though he was supposed to be a oneshot character I've expanded his role just cause I liked him so much.**

**Just curious...anyone enjoying these one shots? I'm currently sketching out an outline for a sequel to Last Resort and maybe even have a plot worked out. :o)**


	4. Sarah's Sanity

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**Sarah's Sanity**

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Something whispered at the edge of her vision, a shadow; a shade that tickled at the fabric of her reality. She snapped her head about to catch the grayness before it dissipated but as usual it was too quick for her. The strange flutterings began days ago, the day after she defeated the Labyrinth and Sarah began to wonder if a connection existed.

Shortly after the grayness vanished she heard a strange noise, a sort of humming reverberating in her ears as if a voice were speaking but she was unable to understand the language. Sarah used her fingers to itch the inside of her ear canals and tried yawning to pop them but the humming remained. It wasn't loud but the consistency irritated her.

She huffed in annoyance. Maybe she was coming down with the flu or some strange bug. She'd take a couple of aspirin when she got home from school and take a nap. Sarah flipped her math book shut with a light slam and packed her items into her backpack, preparing to leave the school library. She knew she get no more homework done today and might as well head home.

As she walked through the campus to the main exit a skittering noise joined the constant hum. She jerked to the right expecting to see a small, furry rodent but instead a leathery, green goblin stared upwards a few feet away.

"Ah!" She jumped backwards nearly dropping her backpack as she watched the goblin vanish, no trace left. "Make it a long nap, Sarah." She told herself shaking off the heebie-jeebies. She noticed the humming was gone, too. Running a nervous hand through her loose, brown hair Sarah pushed through the main doors and took a deep, cleansing breath of the fresh, afternoon air.

Her experience in the Labyrinth changed her; she felt it in the very cells of her being. Something about the Labyrinth altered her and Sarah feared it wasn't entirely for the best. The shadow returned and she blinked several times to clear her vision without success. But whenever she attempted to focus on the shadow it slipped away, much like the weird little floaters inside the vitreous humor of the eye. There one second, gone the next.

She sped up as she walked home, a shiver of trepidation running down her spine. If she could just make it home perhaps she'd feel better; the aspirin and nap offering her reprieve. That would do the trick...an aspirin and a good long nap and she'd be perfect tomorrow.

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	5. Scarvy's Lost Soul

_Takes places during the epilogue of Last Resort just before Scarvy meets Jareth and Sarah six months later when they return to the Aboveground._

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**Scarvy's Lost Soul**

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Detective William Scarvy hated Valentine's Day. The over-commercialized, bleeding heart, fluffy bunny, chocolate covered holiday for romantic fools drilled a hole in his ever increasing cynical soul. He used to love the holiday, positively relished the excitement of giving candies to his childhood crushes and later his more serious high school and college girlfriends and the girls delighted in the gift receiving. Until he gradually realized his shallow emotions never bloomed into the richer sentiments he craved. Initially, he suspected he just hadn't met the right woman as his parents advised so he continued dating while he finished college.

Also, throughout high school and college William worked numerous part-time jobs but nothing ever satisfied him; even his general business degree held no fascination for him but it was a useful, all-purpose degree which he could apply towards whatever he found that interested him later. After graduation he applied for the NYPD Academy more out of curiosity and inadvertently found a calling that grounded him, unfortunately he yet to find the love of his life. A few years after graduation his father succumbed to lung cancer and his fragile, heart-broken mother followed a short time later leaving Scarvy alone in the world.

He desired the type of love he parents had shared, surely a woman lived that he might fall in love with all his heart. But while his career fast-tracked his love-life derailed. Never a picky man regarding woman, a prospective lady needed only to possess a certain level of intelligence, attractiveness, and willingness; he decided perhaps lowering his standards might improve his chances. He should've known better as not only did the quality of his dates significantly decrease but so did his hopes, thus bringing him to his present state of vitriol towards Valentine's Day.

True love it seemed was not in the stars for one Detective William Scarvy, destined to be a restless, unhappily, confirmed bachelor. And so he sat...alone...nursing his woes in a double whiskey a few weeks after this year's Valentine's Day. The small pub around the block from his apartment had lately become his vacation spot when his home's silence rang a tad too loudly. Scarvy surreptitiously glanced at the few other patrons flanking him, all middle-aged men without wedding rings. The corners of his mouth drooped. He had to get a hobby or a best friend, anything to drag him from this alcoholic graveyard since his career didn't cut it anymore.

Ha...his career...five years until retirement and the strangest case on record drops in his lap; six months ago a missing mental patient Sarah Williams, possible connection to the death of Dr. Jonathon Garcia, her crazy, violent husband attacks her boyfriend?, then Sarah Williams, her boyfriend and her daughter all disappear in Central Park never to be heard from again—as they say. And Scarvy stuck holding the bag of a whole lot of nothing evidence. Career...yeah, that's a laugh...weirdest thing was something about the whole escapade called to him like déjà vu, like he'd felt it before or...whatever.

'Get a grip, Will.' He told himself. 'So you didn't solve one case, not the end of the world.' He downed the last of his whiskey, considered ordering another then thought better of it. Time to split the graveyard scene before the gravedigger showed up shovel in hand with Scarvy's name engraved on the handle. Dinner sounded good, maybe Thai since he ate Indian last night. With a strength of will Scarvy pushed from the bar, exited, and shuffled to the nearby Thai restaurant mentally preparing himself for another night home alone.

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**Just wanted to give some perspective on Scarvy now that I've reached a certain point in Reaping.**

**He's really a fave OC of mine.**

**Please Review!**

**Cause they**

**make me**

**happy!**

**:o)  
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	6. Garcia's Obsession

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****Garcia's Obsession**

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_(Set during Sarah's first mental hospital admission while she's approx 15-16 yrs old)_

"Dr. Garcia, your new patient, Sarah Williams, just checked in." The female nurse's voice interrupted Dr. Jonathon Garcia' ruminations as he reclined at his compulsively neat desk. Unmoving with his back facing his office door where the fidgeting young nurse stood half-in and half-out of the entry, Dr. Garcia spoke clearly, his tone eager and mildly condescending.

"Thank you, Nurse."

"You're welcome, Doctor." She replied before quickly ducking out and shutting the door quietly behind her. One swiftly learned never—_never—_slam or even shut doors loudly in Dr. Garcia's presence. After one such viciously, soft spoken and very public encounter the young nurse quickly learned the lesson that Dr. Garcia strove to impart with a minimum of repeat performances. One did not want a repeat performance, ever.

A deep, shuddering sigh escaped the doctor's chest as his privacy was once again restored and he shifted his chair forward placing his palms flat against the surface of his immaculate desk. 'She's here, finally.' He thought.

After weeks of tests and meetings with her reluctant parents, especially the father, the young girl was finally, legally, under his control. _Sarah Williams_...her name caressed his mind and tickled the more delicious parts of his curiosity. Undoubtedly, this young girl's schizophrenic symptoms were the most fascinating ever he had the pleasure to diagnose and the thought...the veritable _fantasy_ he entertained of being the one to _discover _this delectable young girl's inner most secrets left him quivering.

'She's waiting for you, Jonathon. It's rude to keep a lady waiting.' He told himself before rising from his desk, adjusting various portions of his clothing and anatomy and exiting his office. Confidently striding through the halls, he barely noticed various inferior staff members diffidently nodding and mumbling 'Afternoon, Dr. Garcia' so focused on his goal. And there she sat, alone, near the nurses' desk on one of the institutional green, vinyl chairs which he so loved, as they reminded him of his ultimate source of power.

"Sarah, my dear girl," He crooned ignoring her vague bodily flinch as he slid into the seat next to her and wrapped an arm around the back of her chair, cautious not to touch...yet. "I'm so glad you've decided to allow me to help you."

"Dr. Garcia," the brunette girl with the youthful face but old eyes glared at him and tried to shift away minutely. "You know this wasn't my decision or even under my control." She said acerbically.

"Nevertheless, without your consent in spirit I can do little to assist you." He smiled and Sarah noticed as she always did that it didn't reach his eyes, which were chilly but so deep. He leaned into her personal space and lowered his voice until Sarah shivered. "You will allow me to help you, won't you, Sarah?" She felt his fingers behind her caress her back lightly and a wave of nausea welled up in her gut.

"Won't you, Sarah?" Dr. Garcia said again and this time he didn't bother to smile.

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**Ooooh, doesn't he just make you shiver with disgust? I just love to hate Dr. Garcia!**

**I got inspired to write this last night, been missing my favorite villain.**

**What'da think?**

**Please Review!**


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